


The Descent

by NeverWrite



Category: Abrahamic Religions, Christian Bible
Genre: Angst, Gen, Iblis - Freeform, Lucifer - Freeform, Sad, Satan - Freeform, Squibs, Writing Exercise, falling, is the Satan fandom a thing, is the bible fandom a thing, sympathetic portrayal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:14:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21728104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeverWrite/pseuds/NeverWrite
Summary: A sympathetic portrayal of Satan falling from heaven because why  not.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	The Descent

**Author's Note:**

> New to AO3 and also editing on a phone so be kind.

Burn. **Burn** . **_Burning_ **. 

A soft sensation of burning. A gentle warmth growing. Turning into heat and getting closer to his back. Heat that was planning to leave a mark or several.

  
His pristine white, almost glowing wings burning turning black turning to Ash in front of his very eyes, flowing and spreading so fast he can barely register. But the burn is slow. He's meant to feel every second of it. He _feels_ every second of it.

  
The burn, the anticipation of it, and the actual pain as it grows closer.

  
Fall. **Fall.** **_Falling._**

  
Tears that barely stay on his face but rather find their way with the same air that takes his ashes  
His screams of pain are lost in the fall.

  
Into a descent that seems to have begun a lifetime ago.

  
It didn't seem to end. Would it ever end? Or was he now to exist in nothingness.

  
Before he could even comprehend-  
  
**Crash**

  
To the ground.  
Crying screaming whimpering.  
Calling for a god who'd forsaken him, a father who'd disowned him, a creator who'd abandoned him.  
Pain, aches, burns spreading across a heavenly body.  
Nothing breaks because he is not human.  
But no death relieves him because he is not human.  
Just torture rippling threw his body in waves.  
And the waves start to feel less intense.  
They start to fade.  
But he doesn't move.  
"Please".  
“Please".  
He begs,  
Again  
And  
Again  
Till his throat feels wretched and ruined.  
  
The pain is now gone but its just _begun._  
  


\----  
In,  
A lonely wasteland a child sits.  
**His** child sits.  
Weeping.  
The tear stops but the heart doesn't.  
  
He's heard the other angels talk of this place before  
"It howls with fire, it boils and it consumes".  
But the whispers were wrong.  
It is cold.

Unbelievably so.

Gut wrenchingly so.

His skin is tender and battered but he still hops in an attempt to fly and falls, for nothing but the memory of his wings remain.  
He takes small steps on to the stone embedded with shades of deep red.  
Sauntering around the crack and embellishments his impact had left.  
He keeps walking on this unknown land.  
And soon to his surprise, he sees valleys of fire brimming.  
And for a second he thinks they'll rid him of this cold, caress his aches.  
So he stands by it.  
But the fire only gives heat - not warmth.  
  
There is no comfort here

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> If you want to be updated about when I write more stuff follow me on twitter @never_writer


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